Jag Heter
by TeaBrew
Summary: A short viginette in the POV of one of the main Zoids CC charas. Slightly angsty; slightly ranty. R+R please, I need the ego boost...


Firstly, excuse any spelling mistakes; I'm doing this in crappy ol' notepad. Anyhoo, this is short viginette is something that just popped out in a matter of 20 mins or so. I like it heaps and for once I'm fully proud of my writing (got some great imagery while doing it too). See if you can't guess who it is by the end, I dare ya...

Oh and the title is Swedish fer "My name is..." Yech, I couldn't think of anything else for a title; sue me. And Zoids isn't mine either. Neither are phoenixes.

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Jag Heter...

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I like to sit and watch people. I like to listen to their conversations. I think they're fascinating sometimes. 

Pretty weird coming from a convicted killer and homicidal maniac hey? I guess it is. I wouldn't really know. I can't really figure that out and I'd like to have an answer to it. My apologies if I start to sprout any strange things; I can't get my head around words; they're too hard to understand. 

People have words for everything. I have actions for everything. 

When I sit and listen to them, it's like they're all trying to be something they're not. They like to laugh and smile; to cover up they're pain with words and false happiness. People tend to do that, I've noticed. I'd like to say I'm able to do the same; really wish I could. But I think people would then see how obviously fake I was being. I don't try to cover up my pain with smiles and words. 

I take action. I create something. 

The more damage I do, the better I feel. Stress relief at its finest moment. People have no idea how much better blowing something up can make you feel. Most people will never know either. But I...I've perfected the relief into a beautiful art... The tearing of metal; the smell of the burnt; the taste of the smoke. It's all so beautiful to me that I must take that deadly chance and create more. I feed off it. I live my life by it. I must have _more_ of it. 

...And that's why, while the ash is still falling warm from the heated sky, I always walk through the created. I don't call it destruction; it seems too harsh. Life was born from the death and decay of others; creation was lifted from its wings. Poetic? Truth. People created the phoenix to satisfy their own selfish desires to see some tiny ray of hope come from all destruction. I'm no creator of any phoenix; just someone who lives and feeds off the decay of this world. 

I'm nothing more than a warmonger, some would say. Would someone walk up to God's face and call Him that though? Most wars are through some holy cause, so wouldn't that make Him responsible? I'm only a fallen angel then. Or a rising demon; take your pick. 

Whatever I am, people are scared of me. If they knew I'm only just around the corner, at the next table at the cafe, walking in the park...they'd freak, as blunt as it sounds. I'm this world's little vampire; sucking up the destruction like a drug and writhing in the aftermaths. People don't like vampires, but they're perfectly happy with phoenixes. So why do they all run from me? Why do they all want me to decay like the very thing I create? 

Why? 

In saving myself, I guess I do create their mystical ray of hope. I do create their hope in my creation. My creation... And how many people can say they've created something? Not many, I think. How many can say they have true happiness? And doesn't it take words to express that happiness? People have to use words; that's why they all want me gone. I'm nothing more than a horrid angel then. I have no true happiness either; just my existance of creation. 

Creation of destruction. My life as a fallen angel. People use words because of false happiness and pain. I use no words; I take action. Who am I? I'm a harbinger of creation. 

I am Raven. 

  
Short, ne? And strangely deep... *head nearly goes mental trying to delve into the tortured lad's head* Well, at least I was trying to be deep... That and it was part *rant* on my behalf.

Now review! Or the Moogle gets it! *holds up a gagged and tied up Moomu and cackles insanely* Naw, I'd never hurt such a cutie... 


End file.
